


The Darker World

by Zephyros22



Series: Arc One: Valkyrie Chronicles [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Mentions of Death, Neglect, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyros22/pseuds/Zephyros22
Summary: On a dusky sunset, Alymia reflects on what brought her to where she is





	The Darker World

"In the end, the only person you can rely on is yourself"

Mia sat with her legs folded close to her, leaned against a large window that overlooked the valley below. The sunset cast dim light through the glass, illuminating the room in a hazy golden glow. The princess had long since abandoned the papers at her desk, choosing instead to dwell within her thoughts for just a little longer.

The room was silent. There was no wind rattling the windows despite the height of the tower, no fire beckoning at the hearth, not even the barest hint of movement to disturb the utter stillness of the space. Mia herself was still, head propped against the wall behind her, skirts spilling over the alcove and onto the marble floor beneath her. She couldn't help but think that to all appearances she was so very lonely.

Instead, her mind churned with memory and thought of a younger age.

This had been her mother's rooms, originally. They tended to belong to the queen of the castle. Mia could still remember when the ornate wooden clock in the corner had seemed an endless spire to her as a child, how she could hardly reach the beautiful decorations and desk ornaments that resided within her mother's office. The large goose feather bed used to be an endless sea of pillows and blankets, beckoning hidden adventure and secluded mysteries within its folds. Her mother's closet used to be a magical wonderland of lace, silk, damask, velvet, and everything in between. What innocent days those had been, Mia pondered silently.

The enchanting world of the room seemed to vanish as quickly as her mother did. One day Mia had been sitting in her mother's lap, listening to endless tales of the mysterious northern kingdoms, of ice dragons and ice so old it had turned black as the night, of warring kingdoms and tales of star crossed romance. The next day the rooms looked as if they had been ransacked. Dresses, sheets, papers, portraits and pillows scattered across the room in such a mess that it appeared as if there had been a crime committed. Mia could recall standing on the precipice of the rooms, her tiny figure casting a shadow that seemed to stretch endlessly into the darkness.

Her mother had left, and with her had gone Mia's delusions of innocence.

Mia could recall the image of her father's stern figure, standing at the end of the dim hallway, his face taut with hidden anger. He seemed so tall back then, his stature less of a monarch and more of a general. Mia remembered reaching for him- her small hand grasping the edge of his cape. He had regarded her with a stare so cold it reminded her of her mother's stories of ancient black ice. 

"Where is mother?" she had asked, her voice frail and afraid.

He turned, yanking his cape out of her grasp. He didn't bother to face her or even spare her a glance when he replied, his voice low with anger: "Your mother is a traitor."

Without another word he left, leaving Mia alone in the wreckage of what used to be her fairyland.

The years that followed seemed like watching another world through a looking glass. There was glittering balls, winding music, dazzling lights, and laughter that rose up into the domed ceilings. Mia watched from afar, hiding behind columns and balconies and at the edges of staircases to try and catch a glimpse of this wondrous world into which she was not invited. 

Her presence would invite expressions of pity, of scathing comments and looks of anger and disgust hidden behind decorated hand fans. 

"Oh, the little princess."

"Is she really a princess? They say she was convieced out of wedlock..."

"No to mentions her mother..."

"The traitorous harlot."

"You simply can't tame that northern blood I suppose."

"She's bound to follow her mother."

Mia knew not the implications of the words at the time. She did not know that her mother had fled the kingdom with her attendant turned lover. She had returned to the northern kingdoms, her homeland, and had left Mia in the mountains of the south. She did not know that her father never truly loved her mother, that he had married her out of necessity and not passion. She did not know that to many she was considered a bastard child. 

She never knew why her mother left her behind. Perhaps it was due to her birthright, as a princess of the south. Perhaps she thought she would be safer, happier with her father. Maybe she thought Mia would have a better life where she had been born. Maybe Mia's mother never truly loved her at all.

She rarely saw her father. He always seemed a large, imposing figure off in the distance. He glided down marbled hallways, cape flaring behind him, striding off in a direction which Mia could not comprehend. She would have done anything to get his attention. She accidentally broke a vase once. Another time she fell out of a tree and hurt her ankle, and yet another she fed a fire so that it blazed much too brightly. Each time he came to her not with kindness or concern, but with frustration and stern words. He always left with the sound of muttered curses, slammed doors, and muttering about disgraces.

Even the maids, troubled by her misbehavior, began to view her as nothing more than a troublesome child with an empty title. In all respects she was a princes, but to them, she was a nuisance. They cared not entertain her with her sketches or books, her toys or beloved fairy tales. Instead she was scolded for the most minor things; running in the hallways, hiking up her skirt, slurping her soup, it seemed anything was an offense. 

Mia quickly learned the rules caging her life. Don't run, glide. Keep up appearances at all times. Move slowly to avoid clumsy mistakes. Occupy yourself to keep from being idly, let loneliness whisper to you. Do not speak unless spoken to, and keep your worries close to your heart, for fear if someone tries to use them against you.

She held these things close, let them wrap her like a shroud and sink into her skin until they were part of her flesh and bone. They were her shield, her protection from the judgmental stares and pitying gazes of the court. Never allow yourself to betray your weaknesses, always stay demure and silent, but never let yourself forget your birthright as a princes of the southern and the northern mountains. Walk silently, but keep your head held tall.

Mia allowed a languid sigh to escape her lips, cheeks flushing from memories long gone by. The noise seemed to shatter the small bit of stillness in the room. She shifted slightly, the sounds of her skirts only serving to disturb the silence of her chambers. 

Hers. 

The other queen these had belonged to was also long departed. Yet an echo of her still remained within the halls and grand corridors of the castle. A flash of blonde hair was all that was needed to remind Mia of the regal, kind woman who once inhabited this space. 

She was but a young duke's daughter of the south, younger than the king by some but well exceeding Mia in years. Mia would see her often, gowned in soft demure colors reminiscent of a springtime sun. Her voice carried like a lark, a soft singing melody that wound its way through the halls of the castle and reached the King's ears. Mia could recall standing closely behind a column and watching the two from the garden. Her father's tall broad figure seemed to dwarf the young duchess. Yet she gazed at him fondly, with an expression reminding Mia of coming home after a very long travel. 

The duchess was utterly beloved. She was young, fair, pretty, and kind in every way. She never raised her voice, always gave a small smile to the maids, and a gentle touch to those who sought her favor. She was not want for beauty either, with long lashes, soft lips, and beautiful blue eyes the color of the Western oceans. To any that observed her and the king, it was obvious that they were truly in love. So it was to no one's particular surprise that they announced their engagement and wedding. Mia watched silently on the steps of the altar as the two recited their holy vows, knowing she would never be this woman's daughter.

The duchess tried to befriend Mia, known by then as the solemn troubled daughter of the king. She attempted to play games, to give small gifts, to invite her on long walks through the gardens, and small gestures that made Mia want to recoil in a type of hidden anger. This woman was not her mother, and she had no right to pretend to be. She was just as pitying as the rest of the castle, it seemed. She did not see Mia for who she was, but for the things she had seen. Though her intentions were pure, her heart open and kind, The queen's affection was entirely unwelcome. Mia endured the new Queen's gestures of affections, but never allowed them to sink past the shields she had built so long ago.

Right was she, when the Queen announced her pregnancy. Mia was utterly forgotten, for the castle now had a new heir, a legitimate one. The Queen was showered with gifts and congratulations and well wishes as the king stood proudly at her side. The castle rejoiced, and Mia sat on the edge of the gardens listening to ballroom music and laughter holding the betrayal close at heart, and swearing that she too, would be as so beloved one day. 

The day the Queen gave birth was without sunlight. It was evident from the beginning that something was wrong. The Queen had collapsed in the library and had to be carried to bed. When she began to go into labour, the nurses were called. Whispers roamed through the castle about the condition of the queen. For hours it seemed the worse would happen, that both Queen and Heir would be taken to their maker too soon. When the news finally arrived that the castle now had a healthy princess as its new heir, the court rejoiced. However, before the king could so much go and hold his baby daughter, the nurses emerged from the Queen's chambers with pale faces and clasped hands. 

"The Queen will not survive" They spoke in low whispers to the King. "The birth has hurt her in ways that cannot be mended."

The King spent the night knelt at her bedside, watching his wife hold their new princess and attempting to engrave her beauty into his memory for eternity. Her face was ashen, her eyes hollow, but her face kind and full of grief and love. Despite her coming hour, to all she was as lovely as the first day she arrived at the castle. She was not afraid, angry, nor despairing. She held a quiet grief like the nighttime following a thunderstorm, soft and waiting. 

"Anna Marie" She whispered into he child's hair. "My beautiful star, my morning sunlight. How lovely you are." She held the infant cradled in her arms, gazing at her with a bittersweet sadness that could not be put into words. She knew this child would never know her, that the days she had been dreaming of would never come to be. She could only hope and pray that her life would be full of laughter and endless joy. 

When the time finally came, the Queen beckoned Mia close to her side. "I know I have not been the mother you desired, or the one you deserved, but please..." Shiny wet tears appeared in her eyes. "Take care of your sister, and guard her against all the hate in the world."

She passed with a sigh, a small smile, and her husband's name on her lips. 

Mia held her tiny sister as the king wept over the body of his queen. Mia stood silently to the side, her bowed as she regarded the infant in her arms. Her eyes were the same blue as her mothers, startling and disarming with their honesty. Dusty flecks of pale blonde hair grew from her head. She gazed silently up at Mia, face full of curiosity. She was beautiful, and Mia could not help the small pang of envy in her heart.

The nurses took away the little princess, cooing and murmuring sweet nothings to her. They left Mia to stand in the corner of the Queen's chambers, alone with the sound of her father's grief.

The Queen's death crippled her father. He ceased all court in the castle. No longer did he appear on his throne, strong and sturdy in the face of obstacle. Without his wife, he appeared not at all. The lords and ladies of the castle slowly rescinded to their own estates. Mia remembered peering out a tower window to see the long line of carriages winding down the steep mountainside as dukes, duchesses, lords, ladies and those in between retreated from the castle. Without Queen or King, their presence was no longer needed nor welcome. 

If Mia though the years following her mother's departure were lonely, the next years were unbearable. The nurses that used to watch over her now tended to the younger princess. They fawned over her as she grew from newborn to infant. Marie was mild mannered, never cried without reason, slept peacefully, and never ceased to smile up at her nannies. She was utterly beloved, just like her mother before her.

Meanwhile, Mia spent her time curled outside the nursery door, thoughts to herself alone. She was always scolded when she came close to her sister, always snapped at when she tried to peer into the cradle or talk to the baby girl who did not understand a word. The nurses allowed her no company with her sister. Rather than cry and shout, Mia resigned herself with a solemn silence to be by herself.

True to her morals, she was hardly ever idle. The place she found refuge was within the endless spire of books in the library. She had extinguished the sparse collection of fairy tales long ago, and had now moved onto less fictitious reading. Her studies spread out before her: geography, history, mathematics, philosophy, literature, politics. As she grew, so did her knowledge of studies across all fields. 

Marie grew too. The younger princess turned from a toddler to a child, and roamed freely in the castle with an army of maids in her wake. She was allowed the luxuries Mia did not have. She ran giggling through the hallways, picked flowers from the bushes in the gardens, was allowed her favorite meals, as well as everything her heart desired. 

Mia hated her.

Marie would try to speak to her sister. She offered her delicately plucked flowers, a feather found on a turret, or a sketch of her elder sister's likeness. Mia accepted them under the watchful eyes of the nurses, but never gave more than her quiet assent. Little did Marie know that the older princess tossed such things to the embers once her sister was out of sight. 

The one thing that stood in common with the sisters other than their title was their father. The king had retreated to his own enclave of the castle long ago. He appeared only for the most necessary of duties. Neither did he appear for either of his daughters. Mia could recall the one time her sister escaped her maids and ran through the castle hallways to the shadowy parts of the fortress, where only a few frequented. In her mind's eye Mia could recall the image of Marie standing before a large pair of carved oak doors that loomed over her small figure. Marie's pale dress contrasted with the dark decorated doors that led to the world she had never seen. Mia had hidden behind an alcove down the hallway, watching the young princess as she slowly, purposefully knocked thrice upon the door.

Mia had not expected the king to answer. Yet the door opened with a creak that spoke of younger years and happier days. It took Mi a moment to recognize the man who answered the door as her father. His once blonde hair and beard had turned ashen gray, deep bags sat under his eyes, and face had wrinkled into a perpetual grimace. Marie stood patiently, in awe at the figure before her. Remembering her manners, she curstied deeply. 

"Your Majesty" she spoke, voice clear and high. 

The king regarded her solemnly, confusion apparent in his visage. He gazed at the younger princess, his eyes unseeing for a moment after Marie returned from her curtsy. Without a response, Marie shifted restlessly before finally withdrawing a small object from within the confines of her skirt. A small wooden lion. 

"For you." She offered, hands out, the lion cupped gently between them.

There a pause that lasted a moment too long before the king opened his mouth and whispered with wide eyes "Angelica"

Mia held her tongue at the name of the former queen, watching silently from the shadows of the alcove. Marie was just as confused, cautiously withdrawing her gift. 

"Your Majesty?" she asked, voice soft and uncertain. 

The king reached out a hand towards the younger princess, and for a moment Mia was unsure as to what was about to transpire. Marie stood still like a deer, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. 

"F-Father?" she whispered.

All at once the king regained himself, face settling back into a grieved grimace. He withdrew his hand quickly, making Marie flinch. He regarded her a moment more before turning away. "Return to your nurses, child." he spoke deeply, shutting the door behind him with a solid thunk.

Marie was silent for a few moments before a hiccup sounded through the hall, and she fell to her knees crying quietly. Mia watched her from afar, hidden in the shadows of her alcove. As Marie buried her head in her hands, Mia could not help but imagine a small girl not unlike herself crying at the torn and tattered remains of a royal bedroom, a worn fairytale book in her hands. Part of her heart ached for Marie, but she reminded herself of the years of living in her younger sister's shadow. 

As a nurse called for Marie down the hallway, Mia silently departed from her hiding spot and whisked herself away before she could be found. 

The cries of her younger sister echoed in her wake, but she paid them no mind. 

It was only fair that she should suffer too.

Little did Mia know that Marie would grow to want for very little. She was given praise and kindness, all that her heart could desire. Her maids read her bedtime stories, she was allowed to have any toy of her choosing, and would want for nothing, albeit one thing. Though Marie had been raised with the utmost care and oversight, there was one thing that no amount of stories, toys, or company of maids could ever solve; Her need for friends.

Though Mia had been cast away by the court, her father, and all that accompanied them, Marie had lacked such care from the very start. She had all the pleasures she could ask for, but the smiles of maids, knights, and all that followed seemed to see her as the orphaned princess and not a girl in desperate need of company. Marie was horribly, desolately, despairingly lonely. 

Mia could not help but see parts of herself in her sister. The way Marie would shadow her doorway late at night, a fairy tale books clasped hopefully to her growing bosom reminded Mia all too much of her early years in the castle. She would catch Marie wandering the gardens by herself, looking forlornly up at the sky. In the evenings she could find Marie in the ballroom, dancing with an invisible partner, perhaps in hope that someday he wouldn't be so absent.

If Mia's exile and consequent loneliness had hardened her heart and erased her hopes, Marie's seemed to make her all the more kind and caring. She would always give a passing word to the maids, a lighthearted laugh to the castle guards, and even a smile to her elder sister as they passed in the halls.

Mia hated her for it. It did not make sense to her why such loneliness would cause such anger in her, but the same seemed to only make her sister blossom into a princess as beloved as her mother. While Mia sat alone and put her ambitions into her studies and loathed all that had left her alone, Marie sat in hopeful silence for the one who would someday rescue her from her loneliness. 

That friend would come in the form of a young knight with hair the color of bronze sunsets and eyes that made one recall the great forests of the west. With her came four others, all sworn to their duty. "The Knights Five" guards would come to call them affectionately. The five soldiers who protected the beloved Princess of the Eastern Mountains. Femil, known for his longsword and shield tactics was a calm, positive boy who exuded a sense of relaxation and happiness. Bern, who greeted soldiers and princesses alike with a boyish, lopsided grin fancied an axe as his weapon. He was slow to anger but quick to befriend. Lilia was the archer of the five, lithe and nimble like a small songbird. Rumors had it she was actually an heiress to a wealthy family in the west, but chose a life of service. Alio was the tall handsome captain with dark eyes who was the gossip of the palace maids. Bred from a noble family, he accepted the position as captain readily. His noble bearing, lovely dark looks and revered sword skills were admired by all in the castle and afar. 

However, it was the final knight that truly seemed to capture Marie's heart. Amelia was her name. Born to a simple family on the Southern Plains and the youngest of all five, she seemed remarkably unremarkable. She had not any type of outstanding beauty, skill, or bearing, but still seemed to be Marie's most trusted confidant and friend. Perhaps it was her selfless care for her vassal, or duty sworn obligation to fulfill the princess's desires. Either way what was once a lonely isolated princess was now a carefree and shining beacon of light to all in the kingdom. Marie seemed to bloom overnight in the company of her new companions. 

Mia would often hear their laughter or see them together in passing. The six were inseparable, hardly not at each other's side. Beit in the gardens, grand ballroom, secluded parlors, or royal chambers, it was a rare sight to see the young princess without the company of her friends.

Mia had also received five knights who regarded her with a familiar cautious gaze and distanced smile. However, among those five was one who had captured Mia's attention. Akane was her name. In the girl's native tongue in meant 'red', she had explained. It fit her better than she knew, from the red of her dual blades to the glow of her eyes as she sparred with her fellow soldiers, to the air that seemed to follow her like shroud. Akane was quiet and reserved, but in a way that held a secret type of knowledge. Though she hardly spoke, she was always listening and watching, learning and pondering silently at the edge of a conversation. It was only when prompted that she would reveal how much she knew. She always knew more than she would let on, seemingly keeping the most important thoughts close at heart. Indeed her name fit, for red was indeed the color of betrayal.

Mia and Akane maintained a mutual type of respect. Though Akane was sworn to her princess, she held her own survival most dear. Mia quickly realized that in order to maintain an important ally, she would have to show Akane that the knight could place her faith in the princess to ensure her own benefit. It began with small gestures, raising Akane's pay, ensuring her knights more luxurious accommodations, giving them looser reign on their activities but always watching over their activities should they decide to perform against her desires.

What started as a simple scheme for Mia's short term benefit began to evolve into something more detailed, permanent and hidden. Slowly, silently, she began to consolidate her power. She began to oversee the royal accounts, moving a number here or there for her benefit. She would write distant dukes and lords, inviting their favor with suggestions of wealth and power for small favors. Akane acted as her secret spy, lurking in the shadows of advisers meetings with the king, intercepting letters and watching intently from the edges of sight as she intently and methodically delivered new information to her sworn protector. A secret, forbidden network began to sprout like a flower from in between the gray stone of the castle parapets. 

That seemed to be the time in which Mia swore to ensure her own future, by blood if necessary. No longer would she sit at the foot of a father who had forgotten her, a country that had rejected her, a kingdom that had forgotten her. No, instead with her own hands she would carve her name into the stars above, and rely upon those she inspired to protect her as she fulfilled her dreams.

Yet there always seemed to be a pair of eyes watching her from afar, as if sensing her ambitions. The bronze colored knight regarded her with a quiet suspicion, as if realizing Mia's desires would endanger the friend she held the closest. Amelia and Mia would regard each other with a silent type of judgement, always waiting for the moment in which the first one would be able to make the move. If Amelia did know any type of scheming on Mia's behalf, she never revealed it to her fellow knights or beloved princess. It did not change the fact that Amelia was a threat that would have to be dealt with accordingly sooner rather than later. 

Mia seemed to return to her senses as she gazed out her window. The sun had set, leaving a purple hue over the capital below. The room had become dim without candle light to illuminate it. Mia shifted slightly, trying to ignore the ache in her legs from staying in one position for too long. Her dark curls spilled across her eyes, obstructing her vision of the valley. She was still for a few moments longer before finally conceding her secluded window seat. The tile was cold under her bare feet, chilled by the coolness of dusk. She paid it no mind, choosing instead to step over to her desk where her abandoned documents lay. 

Several letters, a notebook detailing recent transactions, a book borrowed from the library decorated her desk. On top of all them lay a decree of utmost importance. The prince of Fiore would arrive tomorrow to begin discussing open trade and softened border protections. It was a meeting only few knew about, one that Mia herself had arranged. The meeting would allow her to play her hand at gaining allies from beyond the borders of her kingdom, securing her power for the day in which she would leave her past behind and become a new person, the queen she was always meant to be. 

The church bells on top of the mountains sounded forlornly in the distance, claiming an end to the day. Mia closed her eyes briefly, allowing the remains of her thoughts to sink into memory. Tomorrow would begin a new day, and a new chapter for Mia. No longer would she sit and allow fate to dictate her life. Her destiny would henceforth be controlled by her own hands, through secrets and lies and blood if need be. She had so long been the victim of circumstance, but now she had promised herself to shape her own future. It was a promise not easily made, nor easily forgotten. Mia knew this, and she swore to never forget the memories that had led her here. She would never return to being the lost forgotten princess.

With a soft sigh and a rustling of skirts, Mia left her desk for the warmth of her bed chambers. The light beckoned from the other room, carefully lit by one of her attendants. As Mia left the darkness of her office, and entered the light of her chambers, she once again reaffirmed the vow to herself. Though the fates may cry against her will, Mia would take her stained hands and grasp the stars if it meant she could harness their splendor. Through blood and tears, fury and despair, Mia would be queen. 

And she would never be forgotten.


End file.
